


Attention From a Grownup

by iaintafraidofnoghostbear



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, teenage mitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaintafraidofnoghostbear/pseuds/iaintafraidofnoghostbear
Summary: Mitch is maybe too trusting.





	Attention From a Grownup

Mitch recognizes around half of them, most only by name. They’re lucky that Auston has Bonnie Marner’s number in his phone, so that Mitch can call his mother to confirm that everything they’re telling him is true. 

“It’s just a deaging, but he’s never gone through one before,” the trainers explain to the team. “He’ll return to his proper age given time. Given that he doesn’t remember anything of his adult self, it’s unlikely he’ll remember any of his time in this state, so it would be helpful if you could take note of any important events that he should be filled in on later.” 

There’s a brief debate about where Mitch should stay; at 16, he’s hardly going to be allowed to go home by himself. He’s not sure why he does it, but John clears his throat while Mo and Matts argue about the matter. 

“He could stay with me. I have the room.” 

Mitch looks surprised at that and - after swallowing back the instinctual sting of hurt - John realizes he probably would be, too, in Mitch’s position. John is a stranger to him, and an NHL player with a few years under his belt to boot. 

“That would . . . probably be for the best,” Mo says slowly. “That okay with you, Mitchy?” 

“Y-yeah. Thank you,” Mitch directs at John, looking awkward. 

“Of course. You can ride with me after practice.” 

The coaches let Mitch on the ice, keeping him out of checking drills. He looks less nervous out there than he has since Auston had brought him to the rink. John doesn’t know why his gaze keeps wandering to Mitch. It could be the novelty of seeing him so young. It could be how fast and talented he still is even 6 years younger. It could be . . . well. John swallows and skates up for the next drill. 

“You’re quiet,” he comments on the ride back, trying to give Mitch a smile but Mitch just shrugs. 

“I’m tired. It’s . . . been kind of stressful, you know?” 

“I suppose it would be. But you’re gonna be alright. We’ve got you, the whole team does. Even if you don’t remember us right now, alright?” 

“Okay.” Mitch almost immediately crashes on John’s guest bed. John leaves him to it, going to eat and relax. They don’t play until tomorrow night, and there’s a skate scheduled in the morning that he’ll need to drive Mitch to. 

Mitch wakes up eventually to eat and putters around John’s house. His restless energy is familiar, and John finally tosses him the remote, letting him pick something to watch so he’s at least entertained. Without his memories, Mitch finds he hasn’t seen dozens of the movies on Netflix and spends a while flicking back and forth between them trying to choose. 

Bed time feels like a relief; there’s a chance Mitch could be back to normal by morning. He could even play tomorrow night if the trainers clear him. Then John won’t have this houseguest who craves attention without even realizing that he has it, anyway. 

Unfortunately, Mitch isn’t back to normal in the morning. He’s a little more energetic in the room and on the ice this time, only wilting when he’s reminded that he won’t be able to play tonight. More likely than not, he’ll have to stay behind at John’s and John can tell it bothers him. 

“We just need you in top shape when you’re back, Mitch. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Despite is agreement, Mitch is obviously sad when John leaves for the rink. They eke out a win and all of them skirt around the questions about Mitch and his whereabouts, sticking with the phrases that PR had given them. The media will always speculate, but they try to exert as much control over the narrative as they can. 

Mitch is asleep when John gets home, sprawled out on the couch. His too-big shorts have ridden down, shirt rucked up from his movement, leaving a wide swathe of pale skin exposed, including the delicate-looking curves of his hip bones. John shouldn’t be looking. He definitely shouldn’t be considering touching. And he absolutely shouldn’t be crossing the room, sitting next to Mitch and reaching out to thumb over the fine hairs of his treasure trail, following it down to the waistband of his shorts. 

John keeps the touches soft. Light. Mitch shifts a little, making a sleepy noise but doesn’t wake. Gently, John eases Mitch’s shirt up more to reveal his thin chest, the dusky pink of his nipples that harden quickly in the aircon. John brushes over one and then the other, watching Mitch’s face scrunch as he squirms at the touch. He’s getting hard in his shorts, the swell of it showing in the loose fabric. John brushes over that, too, small strokes with his fingertips that coax Mitch into full hardness. 

Mitch moans softly as John teases his dick. There’s a shift and a flutter of long eyelashes and John holds his breath. Sleepily, Mitch blinks his eyes open, looking up at John in mild confusion, before looking down his body. 

“What are you-” Mitch starts to mumble, but John shushes him. 

“It’s okay, Mitch. Just let me.” John tries to keep his voice soft, but Mitch is waking by the second, body tensing. 

“But-” 

“It’s okay. We do this, sometimes.” It’s a baldfaced lie, but it falls from John’s mouth so easily he hates himself for it. 

“We - we do?” Mitch sounds wary, and John has to swallow hard in order to be able to speak again. 

“Yeah. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’d never do that.” 

“But I’m …” Mitch shakes his head, letting the protest peter out. 

“You’re still you. Unless you really don’t want to.” John rests his hand on Mitch’s thigh as he speaks, sliding it up until the tips of his fingers are dangerously close to Mitch’s cock. He watches as Mitch blushes, his eyes going wide at John’s touch. 

“N-no, I do.” 

“You’ve done it before, right, baby? I’m pretty sure you told me you had by the time you were sixteen.” 

“Yeah.” Mitch’s breath is coming faster and he moans sweetly when one of John’s fingertips graze his dick. 

Leaning in, John brushes their mouths lightly together. “See? Not so scary then. You know what you’re doing.” 

It’s almost too easy, then. Mitch lets John nudge him back down onto the couch. He tries to cover his hard cock with his hands when John eases his shorts down, but John just crawls up between skinny legs and laces their fingers together, stretching Mitch’s arms above his head and dipping down to kiss him again. 

“Don’t hide, baby. I already know what you look like, you don’t have to be shy.” Another lie. Of course, John knows what Mitch looks like naked in the locker room, but he had no idea what Mitch looked like fully hard, flushed with need and pleasure and embarrassment. Mitch melts under soft kisses, losing a little of his hesitancy the longer they make out. One leg hesitantly makes its way around John’s waist, holding them close together. 

“You, too?” Mitch asks quietly, fingers playing with the waistband of John’s pants. 

“Yeah, let me.” Sitting up, John pulls away long enough to shed his suit jacket and shirt, noting how Mitch’s eyes rove over his body hungrily, only looking away when John makes eye contact. He sucks in a breath when John stands to push down his dress pants and boxers, leaving him fully naked. 

“You’re so big,” Mitch blurts, immediately looking away. “God, sorry, that sounds super childish probably. I swear I’m not a virgin, I’m just-” 

Gently, John rests a finger over Mitch’s lips, quieting his ramble. “It’s okay. You only remember the boys you’ve been with, and their bodies probably look different than mine all the way around, right?” 

Mitch nods, and John draws his hand away. “Men,” Mitch says it in a murmur, so soft that John almost doesn’t catch it. 

“What?” 

“There - there were men, too. Nobody that looked like you, though.” John can feel his cock twitch, the mental image of another man over this sweet, tight little twink hitting him right in the gut. 

“You never told me that,” John muses as he helps Mitch tug his shirt up and off. Twenty-two year old Mitch is slender, but not this skinny. John has to touch, running his hands up Mitch’s sides and bearing him back down to the couch cushions, settling between his legs. 

“S-sorry.” Mitch seems nervous again with John on top of him, but he lets John move him as he wants, gasping when John skips past his mouth to kiss his neck, nipping at this collarbone. 

“Mm, don’t be. That means you know what it feels like to be fucked, right?” 

“Yeah?” The tone of Mitch’s voice has gone up, betraying his nerves, so John kisses him again. Mitch has always been easy for affection and this younger version is no different. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be good to you. Just gotta lay back and let me touch.” 

It’s such a delight when Mitch nods and does just that. John’s hands practically shake as he explores Mitch’s body, over his ribs and skinny hips, right down to his cock and downy-soft balls. Mitch gasps out loud, already pressing up into the contact. 

“Stay right here, baby boy. I’ll be right back.” John slides off the couch, ignoring Mitch’s questioning sound in favor of quickly padding down the hall to his room for a bottle of lube. He debates a condom, grabbing one just in case Mitch insists before heading back to the living room. 

Obviously, self-consciousness has gotten to Mitch in even that short amount of time. He’s curled in on himself, hiding his nakedness and boner. There’s an unsure expression on his face when he looks up at John that deepens when he catches sight of the lube and condom in John’s hand. 

“What’s wrong?” John asks softly, sitting beside Mitch and running a hand up his side. 

“I’m so small.” John knows that Mitch means he’s thinner and shorter than John, but the phrasing makes John’s face heat and his cock twitch. 

“I think you’re perfect, baby boy. Don’t worry about that.” It takes some coaxing, but eventually John has Mitch back under him. He squirms when John touches his hole and as he sinks a finger inside. Mitch is so incredibly tight that John can’t help but moan. “God, you’re gonna feel so good, Mitch.” 

That makes him blush again, but he starts shyly rocking his hips to match the rhythm of John’s finger. He shivers but takes it without complaint when John nudges in another and starts to stretch him. Panic only rears its ugly head again when John decides Mitch is ready and pops the lube open to spread some on his cock. 

“You’re - you’re not gonna use a condom?” Mitch’s voice is small, scared and definitely shouldn’t be doing it for John. He takes a deep breath and pets at Mitch’s thigh. 

“I will if you want me to, Mitchy.” 

White teeth worry Mitch’s bottom lip, like he’s afraid to ask for what he wants. John waits him out, just brushing his fingers up and down the inside of Mitch’s thigh until he finally speaks. 

“Please? I - you can come on me, if you want. But please wear one i-inside?”

That’s a bit of a disappointment, but John does his best not to let it show. A guilty part of him hopes that - if Mitch stays this way awhile - he might be able to talk him into ditching them during a repeat. 

“Yeah, babe, okay.” John rolls the condom on and adds the lube to it. He lines up without missing a beat and sinks his cockhead easily inside Mitch’s tight little body. “God, yeah.” Leaning down on his arms over Mitch, John presses in slow but steady, watching Mitch’s face for any sign of pain. There’s only a mild discomfort right up until the end when Mitch’s expression crumples for a moment and he whimpers out a hurt sound. “Baby?” 

“Stings. You’re - you’re in so deep.” 

“Yeah. We’ll take it easy. Can’t have you too sore tomorrow.” John keeps his gaze fixed on Mitch’s face as he starts to move. Mitch feels small under him, tight and hot around his cock. He’s perfect and John doesn’t hesitate to tell him so. It’s endearing when Mitch bites his lip and turns his face like he wants to hide, but there’s nowhere for him to go. 

“Didn’t they tell you that, Mitchy? Those other men?” John kisses his cheek when Mitch shakes his head no. “That’s a shame. They should’ve appreciated what a perfect boy you are. You’re so talented, so pretty and feel so good.” 

Mitch turns his face towards John again, seeking more kisses and - probably, John thinks - to shut him up. It’s an effective tactic that John lets him use for a little while. It hides some of the louder sounds Mitch makes when John starts to move faster. He can already feel the tightening in his gut and, though he keeps his thrusts as smooth and gentle as he can, he’s ready to chase after it. 

“Can you come on just a cock, Mitch?” John breaks their kiss to ask, breathing it against Mitch’s cheek. 

“Uh, uh-huh.” Mitch’s voice cracks a bit and even that draws a groan from John’s mouth. He angles his thrusts to hit Mitch’s prostate more consistently and watches him squirm at the sensation. Blunt nails sink into John’s shoulders, but he lets Mitch cling, watching as his face screws up little by little. 

“Johnny-” Mitch gasps, the words strained. 

“You close, babe?” He smiles to himself when Mitch nods quickly, a moan falling from thin, pretty lips. “Go ahead, let me see.” 

It takes a few more thrusts but then Mitch tosses his head back, body arching and nails scrabbling over John’s skin as he lets out a tortured-sounding cry, cock spilling come over his chest and belly. He immediately starts whimpering as John keeps fucking him. John changes the angle so he’s not hitting Mitch’s prostate quite so hard, but he continues thrusting. 

Kissing Mitch’s cheek, John nips his earlobe lightly. “Such a good babyslut, coming with only my dick.” Mitch sobs softly then, and John muffles the rest of his sounds with a kiss, groaning into Mitch’s mouth when he finally comes. 

John’s not really surprised to see tears in Mitch’s blue eyes when he leans up to pull out. He takes a few moments to savor them and the look of Mitch’s red, used little hole when he pulls out. John ties off the condom and drops it on his abandoned shirt; he can always wash it later. Mitch is eager for touch and a kiss, clinging desperately until John soothes him with his hands. 

“We should probably get to bed,” John says after a while. It’s nearly two am and - even if skate isn’t until the afternoon tomorrow - one of them did just play a full hockey game on top of having an orgasm. 

“Okay.” Mitch’s look lingers as they gather up their clothes and John can’t seem to help himself when the time comes for them to split up to go to their respective rooms. 

“You can sleep with me, if you want. Just remember, this is our little secret.” That makes Mitch frown for a moment, and John quickly goes on, feeling a bit mean for what he says next even if it’s true. “It’s not like we can be out, Mitchy. The guys don’t know. Nobody does.” 

“Oh. Oh, of course.” John can see the sadness in Mitch’s expression, but he accepts John’s words at face value.

It’s too easy to talk Mitch into a second round in the morning. He’s a little sore, but not enough to turn John down. It takes more coaxing and reassurance that he’s clean before Mitch will skip the condom, but it happens. And it’s worth it. John almost asks to take a picture when they’re done - Mitch is bent over his kitchen counter, toes barely touching the ground. His hole is gaping ever so slightly, the rim pink, and there’s a dribble of John’s come running right down his taint. 

There isn’t a third time, unfortunately. Mitch is too sore that night and wakes up back to normal the very next day. He doesn’t seem to have any recollection of his deaging, and he just thanks John for taking care of him with a shy smile. 

“Of course, kid,” John tells him with a bland smile. “Any time.” 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://iaintafraidofnoghostbear.tumblr.com/).


End file.
